April 2021
Author's Note: As I grow older I find that there are few things that give as much of
happiness as being near your grandchildren does.
The Waiting
The shy shadow of yellow climbs into my cup
Urging me to sip the morning nectar instead,
Reminds gently how I and my son turned ecstatic
To see it define the window signs, at times
Made permanent by us with pencil lines.
The side walls are empty already as I climb the stairs
Leading up to the terrace not only mine but also the neighbor's
Opening to a myriad homes, lives and more.
The sky, the bougainvillea pink and white in Padahastasana pose,
Gyrating petals trio smudging the ground, protecting
The peeping anthers and the slim filaments.
The tomcat retracting its paw tracing the moving sun and
The stillness growing every moment.
As I wait for the news of my granddaughter's birth,
The breeze stops in between breathing deep, far
A siren hoots announcing it to be yet another day.
©2021 Abha Das Sarma
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